


Devil in I

by blahthelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angel Liam, Angel Niall, Deal with a Devil, Death, Demon Deals, Demon Louis, Demon Zayn, Fake Character Death, Fantasy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Psychic Abilities, dreams of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-10-11 13:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahthelarry/pseuds/blahthelarry
Summary: Death makes no mistakes.- Harry's escaped death before. It was a fatal car crash that should have taken his life, but he'd survived. Now he has dreams of death and they're not his own. They're deaths of others. Louis has promised to help him, but when Louis starts performing strange acts, Harry's unsure if he can be trusted.





	1. Collision

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "The Devil in I" by Slipknot.

Harry's sure he's going to die this time. The glass and the blood don't seem like much at the moment, but he's confident that he's not going to make it until the police show up. That's not a problem anyway. He's here because he wants to be here. The shining glass is almost like diamonds and the blood is like bitter candy in his mouth. The sweetness comes from his imagination, resting on the tip of his tongue and whispering to him to close his eyes and welcome the growing shadows.

There's a fleeting thought about moving, but he pushes it aside. The pain is growing strong and though he wants it to stop, he doesn't want to take the risk of unintentionally saving himself. It's like he's afraid that if he makes even the subtlest sounds he'll grab the attention of someone close. Which is impossible where he's at.

He can't remember what had caused him to swerve off the road. Was it a deer? Another car? Or had he committed suicide?

It feels like he's missing something. There is a feeling at the pit of his gut, something sinister that he can feel. He doesn't want to think about it. He knows somehow that it will change him. And even though he might die, he doesn't want to change, not at this moment, not ever.

He can feel tiny pieces of glass embedded into his cheek. They sting like hell and pull him closer to earth than he wants. It might have been a bad idea doing it this way, but maybe it had been his only chance. All the other ways seemed to take too long or hurt too much. Going out in a huge mess probably wasn't much better, but it had done the trick, hadn't it?

He hums out a tune. It's hard to smile so he doesn't try too hard. Just when his thoughts begin to fade away, he's jolted by a noise. Opening his eyes, he looks straight ahead. It's dark and his headlights are on full blast except the right that had been busted when he struck the tree. He can't understand how he's still conscious, not when he's sure that his guts are hanging out. If he was brave he would look down, prove to himself that he's done the job, but he can't. There's already enough blood on the dash. The car is bent so out of place, he can't even guess what killed him. Impact? A sharp piece of metal sliced him open?

The noise is closer now. Out in the abyss of darkness, a shadow draws closer. Its limbs touches each tree it passes until it's standing in front of the car. The person's features are blurry, not that Harry could see much without his glasses either way. They're just staring at him, watching him. His chest barely raises. He close to not being able to breathe at all.

He should feel afraid or at least worried. They should be calling for help, not standing there and watching him die. Is he glad that they're aren't calling for help? Didn't he want to die?

He's confused and his heart is pounding in his ears. Lights are flashing and he hears someone scream, but he can't tell if it's him or someone else. The shadow is right upon him, gazing down at him. He can't see or move. Frozen still, he can only watch as they reach out and touch his face.

Then everything turns cold. Nothing feels right when the warmth is sucked up. The tips of his fingers and toes feel like they've fallen off. His mind draws blank, but before it all disappears, he hears one soft voice.

"Sign here."

***

Harry presses his finger into the icing on his cupcake and puts the icing covered finger into his mouth. He stares down at the newspapers and thinks over his next steps in his head. If he gets a second job he'll be able to afford an apartment on his own. But if he moves out he'll have to buy his own things. He'll have to buy food, find furniture, buy a car...

He sighs as he bites in the cupcake. There weren't many option open for him anyway. The only job he'd found so far required a college degree which he didn't have. His job at the laundry-mat also took up all his night hours and wasn't flexible. The words on the page started to run together as his eyes crossed. All this looking at him sleepy all of the sudden.

Convinced that it was a sign to take a break, he finished the rest of the cupcake and folded up the newspaper. Nick was sure to be here any minute. It was best to have supper lied out before he came home and not have him griping about it before Harry left for the night.

It wasn't that he didn't expect to have the perfect relationship with Nick, he new that all couples had their share of disagreements. But with Nick, they never really got over things. They'd bicker and before they could solve anything, Nick would storm off and lock himself in their room. He'd say stuff and though Harry knew that he didn't mean them, they still hurt. He tried to stop himself from making mistakes, but even then it didn't help much.

That was going to change though. Harry smiled and opened the fridge. Tonight was going to be perfect. He would make rice with chicken and mash potatoes. For dessert, he'd prepared a cheesecake earlier this morning after Nick left for work. It wasn't much-they didn't have much-but it was the best he could do with what they had.

He cooks the rise in an almost quite haze. The steam rises up and clouds his visions, but he's enthralled with the chipped wallpaper. Made up of the cracks in the wall, a face stares back at him, its eyes glow a dull blue. Its grin turns sinister, calling him forward.

"Hey."

He jumps when he feel Nick's arms wrap around his waist. Their skin brushes together, sending shocks down Harry's spine. He shivers when Nick kisses him behind his ear and holds him closer. This was what he liked about being with Nick. He wasn't afraid to get close, not like the guys he's dated before. They'd been scared about their roles. Harry does sometimes give off dominant vibes, but for the most part, he's quite passive.

Nick wasn't questioning his sexuality and wasn't one of those guys that feared that they were too gay. He didn't like labels all that much, quite like Harry himself. When they met when they were young, Harry never thought that their friendship would turn to something more. It was unexpected but nice all the more.

He looked over his shoulder, a smile on his face. "Sorry it isn't done. It shouldn't take too long."

Inside, he silently prayed this was one of Nick's good days. The arms around his waist tightened and he feared that the next second he'd be shoved against the stove.

Nick kissed him behind the ear. "Sounds good. I'll go wash up."

When Nick disappeared down the hall and Harry heard the bathroom door shut, he let out the breath he'd been holding. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood up on end. He bit his lip and tried to concentrate of the rice. The worst thing he could do was mess up dinner and acting like a complete fool. Things were going to be okay. Tonight was their night, their special night and nothing was going to ruin it.

He was praying the whole time Nick was in the bathroom, asking for help to not say or do anything stupid.

***

It goes well for the most part. By that he means Nick eats without a word or a glance, more focused on the news than Harry. He shouldn't be upset as much as he is. Nick's been working hard for them everyday, paying bills and making sure they have food to eat. Like Nick tells him, Harry's kind of spoiled. Most of what he makes at the mat-it isn't much-he gets to keep for himself.

That's what is creating a big hole between them. Harry doesn't feel like he's taking up a lot of space, but then again, he does. Nick takes care of him and that wasn't what he wanted at all. They were suppose to work together as a team, bring home money together to keep a roof over their heads. He didn't want to be taken care of, but Nick kept pushing him further into the house wife role.

Yeah, he liked that, but he didn't want to be house bound every day for the rest of his life. He wanted-

"Take this to the kitchen." Harry takes the plate without a word and walks into the kitchen. He looks back and watches Nick splayed out on the couch for a few seconds.

His hand are shaking as he runs the plate under some water and sets it into the sink. He braces himself against the counter, hands clutching the side of the sink with all their might. Nick looks calm, not at all on edge like most of the time. This might as well be the best time to ask than any other time.

He's about to turn back and walk into the living room when he feels a light touch on his back. He freezes in place, eyes wide. The touch gets bolder and moves up until it brushes over his hair.


	2. Sign

Harry turns around, convinced he’s going to have his first run in with a ghost. The blood rushes to the top of his ears and his heart beat might be beating a hundred times per minutes, but all he can focus on is his breathing and trying not to shit his pants. He’s never thought about other beings in this world, he’s had enough hard time conversing with humans let alone ghosts or creatures of the night.

But when he turns around, he doesn’t see anything. That should have been expected since ghosts can’t usually be see. Perhaps he is losing his mind, slowly drifting into crazy town the more he tries to put a name to what must have been the wind. He wants to believe that it was nothing. Who would want to know that they’re being haunted by a ghost? Why would anyone make that up unless they were going insane?

His hands are shaking again, moving without his control. That’s what his life feels like most of the time. The world keeps turning and moving, people go along without ever noticing how he’s dying on the inside, second guessing everything he does. He isn’t cut off from the people he loves. Gemma has a family, a little girl that looks just like her and a husband that loves to take her out to the movies and cuddle on the couch during family gatherings. His mom is remarried and looking to adopt a baby boy from China. Those are things that he loves in this world, spending time with the people that matter the most to him.

Of course Nick’s in there—somewhere. He’s someone that is hard to place because he makes sure to make it known that he can’t be placed without a thorough evaluation. He likes to be the odd one out or the unique one. Everything he says or does is just another point to prove that he is the one to break stereotype. When they met, that was one of the things that drew Harry to him. They were young, barely out of elementary when Nick came running out onto the playground. Harry liked to swing and play monsters with his classmates, but when Nick entered the picture, it was just them.

They were best friends, a perfect match. What Harry liked to play, Nick did too. If Nick liked a book, so did Harry. They were like the same person, only taking up residence in different bodies. The one thing that Harry wanted the most when they were younger was to be Nick’s best friend forever. And it was half true until they reached high school.

Harry hadn’t figured out the whole sexuality thing until he was a Sophomore. The locker rooms weren’t a huge deal, he’d seen more dick in the porn Nick liked to show him even if there was a girl. The deal breaker were the nights Nick would sneak him out and take him the college parties. At the time Nick had been hanging out with his older brother a lot more, always dragging Harry with them on adventures.

College parties were completely different than high school parties. In high school it was always about getting drunk and snogging in the corner. But college took partying to another level. Instead of getting wasted you go high and after you snogged a bit you took it upstairs or out to your car—whatever was closest. It was a strange difference, one that he hadn’t gotten use to, not when he’d only been to one high school party and it was only four guys drinking Kool-Aid.

That was the night he caught Nick kissing someone in the corner, shirts off and hands in each others pants. They ground together and didn’t notice him until they opened their eyes. He remembered the way Nick smiled at him, pulling his hand out and showing him that it wasn't a girl he’d been grinding on.

It had been torture the next two years. After that, another year passed until they finally moved in with each other.

Thinking about it now made it harder on his decision. There were a lot of things that they needed to work out, not even between each other really. Harry wanted to go to school, wanted to have his own place for just a bit, only to feel like a real adult. He didn’t want to rely on anyone for the rest of their life. Because...Nick and him, they were going to be together forever, weren’t they?

All the things they promised each other wouldn’t be lies or meaningless crap they whispered to one another while cuddling in Harry’s bed. Nothing would change if they drifted apart for a year or two. They would always be in each other’s back pocket, a voice they couldn’t get rid of, a touch that they wouldn’t want to lose. It had always been Harry and Nick, Nick and Harry.

“Stop thinking, Harry. Just stop it.” He says it low so that Nick won’t be able to hear him. The TV is louder than it was, talking about a little girl that’s gone missing.

The words fly over his head, not registering as he gets a hold of himself. There aren’t any ghosts in their apartment. If there were they would have attacked them a long time ago, probably the first night they moved in. His mom, Anne, would say the same thing each time they moved. Gemma liked to terrorize him because he was the youngest—not because she hated him. Oddly enough, Gemma and Harry got along better than siblings were suppose to do. Scaring Harry wasn’t out of hate; it was a kind jester that gave him the excuse to stick close to his older sister.

Anne was afraid at first that Harry would never rely on himself when he grew older. She was right and she didn’t even know it.

He’s walking through the living room before he really thinks about it. Nick’s feet are in his spot, so he moves them onto his lap when he sits down. There’s no need to ask if Nick wants his feet rubbed because he always does. Harry hums the tune again, running his long fingers over Nick’s cold feet, rubbing and kneading the way he likes. Nick smiles at him once but turns back to the news.

The smile was the sign.

Harry keeps massaging. “Hey, can we talk?”

“What?” Nick doesn’t turn, keeps watching the woman speaking about a car crash.

“I want to ask you something.”

Nick picks up the remote but pauses when the camera zooms in on the wreckage. “Harry, is that—is that your car?”

Harry whips his head to the side so fast he gets light headed.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting to see. Most of the things that appear on the news are about death or politics. Those aren’t things that he wants to think about, not when he has a million other things to worry about. In about an hour he’ll be at work, making sure no one overloads the washing machines or tries to break into the coin machine. Though nothing exciting ever happens on his shift, people like to bother him, ask him for money or smoke, knowing that he won’t lend them because he doesn’t have either, but they still ask.

They always want and never think before they ask. When he says no they become defensive, sometimes angry over something so petty.

He deals with enough stuff without worrying about the more unfortunate. People die all the time. It isn’t anything new to the world and yet it’s broadcasting twenty-four-seven.

Nothing about another death should be surprising. The blood and guts are censored, cleaned up for viewers at home, the ones that are too afraid to face the facts. They want to hide from death like it can only be caught and that it isn’t installed inside of them. Everyone is a ticking bomb, waiting for the jostle or code until it can be unlocked.

Nick turns up the volume. Doesn’t ask if Harry wants to listen.

_“—found empty and stripped of any identification. Police are still searching through the database for any matching stolen vehicle or missing person reports.”_

The news goes back to the main studio, leaving the rest of the details untouched. Nick’s still waiting for an answer, looking at him as if he’s going to tell him everything. Harry would if he could. But he couldn’t.

It unsettled him more than the presence in the kitchen. He was sure that he wasn’t wrong about this. That couldn’t be his car. It was impossible. Extremely because—

He shook his head and let out a shaky breath. Harry didn’t own a car. He’d never bought one so how could that be his?

***

Things aren’t going as he planned. Nick’s still watching TV, engrossed with whatever is playing while he’s in the kitchen scrubbing a hole into a pan. He’s not mad, just frustrated, mostly with himself rather than Nick. After his little freak, which was just him mentally hyperventilating, he’d gone into what he liked to call his Mom Mode. Mostly it was a clever—but not really—name. AKA a cleaning phase to calm his nerves, but it didn’t sound as cool.

_Shut up already._

He bit his lip and concentrated on scrubbing. The tips of his fingers were turning numb, the feeling in them fading away until there was nothing. He pushed through the strange feeling, the feeling of nothing, and pictured something like paradise in his mind. There were many places he could try to escape to. A beach or a busy city. The places he could imagine could be anything really. One day he could be flying high in a space ship while in the next he could be a doctor who saved the life of a little girl. Nick and him could be living in their dream house, happily married or fussing over something so married like—maybe which color of towels they want to put in their bathroom.

When he reached into the back of his mind, digging for anything to dream up, there were endless possibilities. Beyond his imagination was where he wanted to go. Not only did he want to escape from reality, he also wanted to escape from his own imagination. His mind was like a huge circle. He started at one place, but no matter what he did he always came back. It was an endless loop of disappointment. A certified route to failure.


	3. Nightmares

He promises that he’ll try again. Once he’s done with the dishes he’ll march straight into the living room and tell Nick whether he notices or not. In his mind he thought that if he got the words out then he’ll get over the fear of speaking out. There was a lot of fear under his usual face, a lot more than he was use to actually admitting was there.

That was his plan anyway. Thinking about it too much usually gave him a huge headache, but as time went on, it got easier. His mood brightened by the time he emptied the sink and dried his hands.

Nick walked into the room, holding his empty glass in one hand and something else that Harry couldn’t see out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m going to be leaving in a few. Gonna have a night out with the boys.”

Harry hears paper turning and light footsteps. An uneasy feeling rushes over him, grasping for his attention. Something doesn’t feel right. It’s not the usual feeling like he’s forgotten something because he’s sure he hasn’t. He shrugged it off. It didn’t matter right now.

That’s what he told himself because he liked to lie to himself a lot. Talking to himself was just another feature, another characteristic that his mother couldn’t force him out of. With Nick always with him, he didn’t have to worry too much about going insane. He was the one thing that kept him grounded most of the time, but sometimes...

“What’s this?” The question didn’t sound at all like it was meant for him. It was a hushed question, faintly louder than a whistle of wind or the brush of fingers on skin.

Nick straightened out the newspaper onto the table, the empty glass gone from his hands, setting neatly in the sink. Harry hadn’t noticed Nick move from one end of the kitchen to the other. His mind was boggled at the time he’d lost, but stilling caught up on its own thoughts than what was going on before him.

It took him about ten seconds to realize what Nick was reading, by that time it was too late. He watched as Nick went rigid, the muscles in his back bulging and then releasing to an easy form. His hands tightened into fists, crinkling the paper.

“Were you even going to tell me?”

Harry felt his heart drop. He swallowed and tried to think of something to do, but all he could hear were the voices telling him that everything was a mistake. All the things he did in his life were meaningless and that Nick would never want to be with him. These thoughts came out of no where, filling him with dread and longing for a life that wasn’t as messed up as his was now.

He licked his lips and stared at Nick’s face.

“What the hell, Harry. I thought—do you want to leave? Do you not want to be with me anymore?”

The confusion turned to anger. Nick slammed his fist onto the table. The glass wobbled and Harry jumped.

“Is there someone else?” Nick shook his head. He let out a shaky breath. “Are you _cheating_ on me?”

All thoughts went out. The words that were there disappeared. Instead of seeing Nick now, he saw an old man crying while he slept, clutching the bedding. A woman around the same age slept beside him and on the nightstand was a picture of two young people, smiling at the camera and waving.

The picture was disturbed when Nick grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He threw his hands up to steady himself, but was blocked by Nick’s arm. The picture of the old couple kept flashing through his mind and he couldn’t place where he’d seen such a thing. They weren’t his grandparent’s and the people in the photo looked like siblings.

“Are you? Tell me, goddammit!”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not. I swear.”

He kept thinking about the girl and boy in the photo, the way they smiled and how their hair looked similar to Nick’s. None of what he had seen made sense to him and neither did Nick’s reaction. The circles in the newspaper, the one that was for a one bedroom apartment and the others for for numerous jobs were evidence. When Nick saw those he thought of another lover, someone ripping apart their relationship, but it wasn’t that.

Tears stung Harry’s eyes, but he didn’t give in to the urge to let them go. “I was going to tell you, but it didn’t seem right. You were watching TV and I—”

“You want to leave me.”

He sobbed. “No! I thought it would be better if I moved out, not leave you. I want to take care of myself for awhile.”

_I want to experience new things._

_I want us to get better._

_I want the old Nick back._

He didn’t want to say those things. He didn’t want to distance himself, but even if he did want to say those things, he wouldn’t have gotten a chance.

The image that had flashed through his mind was like the ghost’s touch. It had been there, but he couldn’t believe that it had been.

Nick shakes his head, his hands leaving Harry’s shoulder. The warmth that had been there was replaced by cold, a touch that he had once moaned to and longed to be graced with.

Nick was his childhood love, the one person that had helped him face his demons. Nick was his savior and everything Harry had wanted to be. The love he had for him was sometimes more than he could understand or handle.

Nick picked up the glass and threw it at the wall. The glass shattered into glittering pieces that fell to the floor. He stormed off to their bedroom. The door slammed and the pictures on the wall shook from the force.

For a few minutes Harry was frozen against the wall. The glass beckoned him, something about it looking familiar, but foreign all the same.

Glass coated with blood, tasting sweet and sour. The fog blocked his vision, blurry and the colors of the night swirled together, kissing and tempting him to follow it. Heaven was close and hell just a bit closer. Someone was walking towards him. They smiled and held out their hand. Their eyes glowed and their lips moved to form words that didn’t reach his ears.

The scene switched to another, to the old man and woman lying in their beds. The woman sat at, the sun hitting her cheek this time because it was no longer night. She turned to the man. The silence became muffled voices and the woman crying, screaming for help. The man didn’t move when she shook him.

***

Louis moves closer to the edge of Hell and peers into the realm of the middle world. Earth is what it is called, a world that is a combination of Heaven and Hell, a world that was birthed when the two realms came together for a short time as one. He hadn’t been there at the time of the Great Collision, but he had heard that it had been a horrible time for demons.

Demons are curious and troublemakers at heart. They live off cruelty and the hate of others. Angels, on the other hand, are creatures that love harmony and people doing good for others. When they had come together, united for what had been centuries, the two creatures clashed and made each other’s existence miserable. Demons love misery but only when it isn’t themselves.

He understood how that could be a problem for demons living in the pockets of angels. Personally, he hated angels. They were stuck up and liked to get into people’s business. From what he’d seen on earth, they liked to force couples together in ways that couldn’t be natural, causing problems—which helped demons—but then ending with the couple getting together. It was disgusting to watch from the sidelines.

Like cancer, they spread their goodness throughout earth, hoping that what they did would stop the bad from overtaking humans. But Louis and the demons of Hell didn’t have to worry too much about the angels. Though annoying, they weren’t as effective as the high angel would have hoped. Humans were more like their demon sides, looking to put people down and hurting others for the sake of laughing and feeling good.

That was Zayn’s favorite part. Humans tried to mask the evil inside of them, but eventually it would always win. For Louis it was more about the the punishment the evil doers endured. Demons fed on agony and loved the worst of the worst suffering in return for making others suffer. Black souls were the best to convert, more powerful than gray souls.

And of course there were the rare white souls that turned black. They were more powerful than most upper level demons, but there were very few chances of such a thing happening.

He watched as a man was stabbed to death and a woman smothered her child. There was a man cheating on his wife and a boy throwing rocks at another boy. To humans these sins were on different scales, one always outweighing another. In Heaven and Hell they were all the same. The more a human did such acts the darker their soul turned and when they finally turned the blackest of blacks or the whitest of whites, they were harvested. A good deed put a human one step closer to Heaven while a sin moved them closer to Hell.

The system wasn’t about equality or justice. It was all about balancing out the three worlds and keeping all creatures safe.

Louis huffed. Demons hated to admit it, but angels were needed.


	4. Demon

In Hell, Louis was just another demon. There weren't any laws throughout the land, just things that the demons agreed not to do. Eating souls was a taboo and going down to earth without permission from the high demon wasn't exactly something a demon would want to do.

He wasn't one of the first demons to come into existence, but he wasn't a demon born from a human soul. In between those two categories was the second generation of demons. They were human like but possessed all the traits of the first generation. They were treated all the same except that second generation could live on earth longer. Most first generations went down for a few hours, scaring people and making sure done deals with souls. Second generation demons were usually sent down to turn the good to bad.

He pushed away from the looking portal, done with the human world for the moment. Just a day ago he had been there, scouting for suitable souls to turn, but an angel had appeared and ruined all the fall he had been planning. This particular angel wasn't anyone new to him. They had met a few hundred years ago when Louis was haunting a man who had killed his wife. The angel had driven him from the man's home and helped the man return to doing good in the world.

He couldn't stop his lip from curling in disgust. The angel's name didn't matter to him, not anymore than it would have mattered when they had first met.

"This doesn't surprise me." Zayn wrapped one arm around Louis' shoulder. He pulled him close to his chest and laughed when Louis struggled out of his hold.

Louis frowned. "What are you doing here? Aren't you working down on earth?"

The deal had been that Zayn would stay on earth for a full year and in return for working he would earn the right to live there for a century. There was a whole lot of fancy words and rules he would have to follow because of the treaty with Heaven, but in short he would be a free demon. To live on earth without working was what every demon was working towards. Louis was a part of that group, hoping one day he would be able to try out many things the humans seemed to love.

"There's been a cancellation," Zayn said.

Louis' jaw dropped. "Cancellation? But it was a done deal-"

Zayn lifted up his hand and cut him off. He shook his head. "Nothing too serious. The contract is still intact, but I was summoned by the high demon. We'll be discussing my case a little further. It isn't anything to be worried about."

Louis was still a little shocked that a formal contract was canceled or put on hold.

Louis was a little shocked that a formal contract was canceled or put on hold.

Zayn muffled a laugh behind his hand. "What are you making that face for?"

He moved to get a better look at Louis, but Louis moved quick to hide his face. Zayn laughed again when the boy turned around and started to walk away. The open space around them didn't give them privacy and wouldn't stop other demons from catching their interaction. Zayn might not care what the others would say, but Louis was still trying to grab a contract of his own. While they might have been around the same age, Louis hadn't been graced with demon parents who had looked out for their adopted son.

Angels didn't have families in Heaven. From what he had heard from rumors was that angels were born on their own and had to look after themselves. Humans were born with the instinct to take care of their young, an instinct that they had received from demons.

There were a lot of things that the humans got wrong over the thousands of years they had existed. Angels, while they were essentially good, had made mistakes when caring for the humans. They had forgotten that humans had just as much hatred and evil in them as their demon parents. Angels thought humans were born pure and only did bad when influenced by a demon.

They were wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Oh, come now," Zayn said as he took Louis' hand into his own. "The high demon can't ignore you forever. The time isn't right, but it will come."

Louis was waiting for him to say the inevitable. _If it happened to me then it will happen to you._

It was a saying that he had heard the humans tell each other. The words were meant to sooth the human's worry, but it could only cause hurt. The expectations would be far too great for their own mind and they would realize that things were probably too good to be true. Humans were very confusing, always comparing one thing to another or one person to another. To them difference was a disease, not something that could be beneficial.

Zayn lead him away from the looking portal.

Louis couldn't have known that Zayn had been right. The high demon wouldn't ignore him forever. Louis was the next one on his list.

***

Work was the same as it had always been. The dull hours slipped by, taking with them Harry's hope and happiness. Worry started to set in the moment he heard Nick leave the apartment. The time had been right, Harry thought. Nick had been in a good mood, probably willing to listen to Harry. It was unfortunate that Harry had left the paper out. Hiding it would have made it worse, but he wanted to think that he would have had more time.

That's what it all boils down to. The ticking clock and the moving of time were not things that could be stopped. They might seemed like the same thing. To anyone that wasn't Harry the clock and time would never be different. Harry knew time was infinite and the clock was a man made object.

The clock could be stopped. Time couldn't.

But these thoughts were of a man losing his mind.

He was back at the apartment now. The lights were turned off and the air smelled of smoke and alcohol. Nick wasn't there.

The curtains were drawn. Outside cars zoomed by and lightening crackled like a lit fire. Rain bounced off the windows, tapping at the glass. Harry loved the rain, loved thunder storms. This time though, when there was no one to comfort him or to even talk to, it was scary. He reached out for the light switch. The light came on and the dark room was filled with a golden glow. This should have made him fill better, should have given him the hope that he needed. Without Nick here it would be hard to feel comfortable. It had been a while since they had fought.

The change was hard to get over.

He locked the door and turned off the light as he left the room. The apartment was filled with darkness once again, only the lights from outside helping him find his way to the bedroom. There wasn't a reason for him to turn on the bedroom light. All he did was slip out of his clothes, feeling more robotic than human. He slipped into his and Nick's bed and tried to not let the scent get to him.

Everything reminded him of Nick. The sheets and the slight dip on the other side of the bed were only reminders of the man that was not here to hold him. This night had been important to him and he thought it had been the same for Nick. The way things had turned out were worse than he'd imagined. Nick's eyes held more than anger. It showed Harry hurt and distrust.

The tears soaked the pillow. He pulled the comforter over his head and wished that he could be more of a man. He wished that he could be a better person and that he didn't hurt the one's he loved. Thoughts of death and hurting himself filtered through his mind. What was the use of living if the one of loved hated him? Who would he be living for then?

He was disgusting. He was vile.

Nick was right to be angry at him. He had the right to hurt Harry. The problem wasn't Nick; it was Harry.

The hushed sounds of the night lulled him to sleep. The tears dried, leaving behind a faint residue of stickiness. Harry was a dreamer. Even when he wasn't sleep he would dream of a better life, of things that he knew that he would never have. Fancy cars, nice clothes, and being much prettier than he was. What he saw in the mirror was a face that was far from what he would call perfect. His lips were uneven and his nose looked too big. There was always something wrong with him, whether it be his weight or the fact that his hair was beyond help.

That night, his dreams were different. There was nothing happy about the world that he was sucked in. Good was conquered by evil in this dream. It was a nightmare.

It started with a dark room. The walls and floor were painted black, no windows in sight. The door out had no doorknob and from outside he could hear thunder and lightening. His heart was racing. He tried to turn around, but he couldn't move. The walls were closing in and the sounds of the thunder grew louder.

The door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a young girl. Her hair fell in long waves down to her waist. From a distance she looked familiar. Her features struck a chord inside of him, almost like a melody he could not place.

She smiled, but when the corners of her mouth reached the furthest they could go, the skin began to rip. Blood oozed from the cuts, dripping to the floor.

Harry woke up with a start. His chest heaved and sweat rolled down the sides of his face.

The dream had been so real. Everything about it felt like it had really happened.

He gulped and hoped Nick would be back soon.


	5. Contract

It was often when Louis became fed up with the way things were run in Hell. The demons were the worst to get along with, the same with angels. Demons and angels were just not his favorite beings to be around with. At least with humans, they had certain goals they set for themselves. All angels cared about was the greater good. All demons cared about was making every creature feel like shit.

He was no exception to this stereotype. Mischief could have been his middle name if demons had one. However, demons were meant to do a job. Their existence wasn't exactly known to humans, though they liked to write a bunch of crap that sounded true, but really only had the names right.

This was very a curious to Louis. Humans had so much to live for and yet they had such short lives. They worked so hard to live to other human's expectations, always looking for approval, but they always died. What were they striving to do? Why keep on living if you knew you were going to die? Why go to such trouble to acquire wealth and fame when it would only disappear?

Most times when he got too deep into his own thoughts Zayn would be there to pull him right back. It was a change when Zayn was sent down to earth and had successfully made a contract with the high demon. Louis had been sure that would have been the end of their relationship until Zayn came back a hundred years later. Though it was like a year to demons, it would be the longest the pair had been apart since-

He blinked. Could it be that this would be the longest they'd been apart since they were created?

That is a strange thing to think about. For all these years they had been side by side-except for the years down on earth. While it didn't bother Zayn, being close kind of bugged Louis. Demons couldn't stand anyone, so how was it that they were able to be together so much?

He conjured up a large fluffy bed and lied down. The pillows were clouds, the bed a wide open blue sky. The ceiling of the small cave that was his own turned sky blue, tiny white clouds floating above his head. The sun peaked out from the corner, shining radiant beams his way. Out of all the scenes he'd seen on earth, the sky was his favorite. Humans couldn't fly, but they had mimicked the action by building big machines called airplanes. They paid each other to fly them up into the sky, sometimes so they could jump out, relying on a parachute to keep them alive.

He'd imagined it was like sex. Falling from the sky was about adrenaline and maybe sex too? These foreign concepts made him wonder all the more about life on earth. These were things he would never be able to experience if he stayed in Hell. If he could only make a contract then he would have all the time he needed to find out what it really meant to be a human.

No demon would never want to be a human. Humans have no power and were at the mercy of angels and demons-beings that could end their life with one look. But there was something about the emotions they possessed. Though they got their family structure from demons, they ha this odd trait that didn't come from either parent. The way they described this union to their children was when a man and a woman love each other very much-

He paused. What came after that? Marriage? That seemed right, but some parents didn't get married. He shrugged. What happened then didn't matter, it was what came after that made all of the difference. It takes a man and a woman to make a child. That was the rule of thumb. Of course, a man and a man couldn't. Neither could a woman and a woman.

These facts were important to humans. They didn't think that these unusual unions were right. Louis wasn't sure why that was, but he was going to keep it in mind whe he visited again.

His thoughts drifted away with the clouds. New ones came fluttering in, looking no different than the firsts. This change eased him for some reason. The white clouds came up against his face, soft and welcoming. The cloud didn't disperse when it made contact with his face. It morphed into a soft material of silk, covering him from head to toe. The warmth was what he focused on the most. Every other thought was pushed to the back of his mind, the loser of the attention and importance.

Sleep was taking him over, pulling him deeper into her embrace. He couldn't see her. Darkness hid her true identity, but he didn't need to know who she was to take pleasure in her gift.

A few more minutes and he would have been asleep. The fantasy was disturbed by Zayn's voice and presence.

"Louis?" Zayn shook Louis' shoulder. "I've got good news."

He raised his head and blinked. "What is it?"

It was hard to believe there would be any good news for him. He'd been filled in with only bad news for so long that it seemed impossible.

Zayn grinned and if Louis was being completely honest, he was scared of it.

"You've been called by the high demon."

***

The first memory Louis has of existence is waking up beside Zayn. They were grown demons, not at all similar to human children. When the original demons appeared, he wasn't scared of them. Their appearance was to bring fright to the humans, not other demons. Louis had been fascinated by their red skin and long black horns. He had been curious, but not brave to reach out and touch them. They had closed in on them, just two, and taken Louis into their arms and coddled him. Zayn had wrapped his arms around one of their waists, staring up at them with wonder.

It's a strange thing to look back at now. Louis hasn't seen the demons that had taken him in since he had been a hundred years old, thousands of years ago. Being the full grown demons that he is now, he's kind of jealous of the human children. Even when he was a young demon, he had been expected to go out into the human world and work, but young humans were granted freedom. They were pampered for years, not days, and given choices, not orders.

It seemed a little harsh to compare himself to a child. A child and him had almost nothing in common. This expectation that he should have the same privileges as another species was quite baffling, most likely a little insane. This couldn't stop him from thinking about it. These differences distanced him even more from humans. He'd lives among them a total of two hundred years, give or take, and yet he still could not call himself one of them. They were complex, more so than demons had let on. Still, he could not show any interest in them to the other demons.

Humans were to be tortured until they lost their mind. They weren't for examination.

All this thinking was for nothing when he reached the entrance to the high demon's office. Office was the human word for what it was. In Hell every demon was given a piece of it to call their own, including the lesser demons. The high demon's land was at the highest point of Hell, covered in rocky mountains and rivers made of lava. This wasn't what all of Hell looked liked, it was only what the high demon liked to see.

Louis was summoned to the main land the high demon used. The air was sucked out of the tight bubble that formed around his body. His lungs collapsed and stretched in unimaginable ways, but only reconstructed because he was a demon. The travel was too hard for a human or angel to handle, though neither never had any reason to enter the land of the high demon.

Human souls before they were turned to demons were kept in a special place in Hell. They were permitted to be escorted to and from certain place if need be, but besides that, they never left what demons called Inferno of Hell.

Lights flashed behind his closed eyes. The broken tissue in his lungs knitted back together, snapping like rubber bands to test that they would hold up. The process was nothing he could ever get use to, no matter how many times he went through. Twenty to thirty times seemed enough to adapt to the feeling of his body being ripped apart and being put back together while he could feel everything.

He opened his eyes. Sitting before him in his large thrown, was the high demon. His long silky black hair draped over his left shoulder, feathering down into a sharp point. He wore tight black pants, a sheer button up shirt, and leather boots. His black and empty eyes stared down at Louis, no emotion slipping onto his face. The red lights in the dark room dimmed further, casting harsh shadows across the high demon's face.

Louis felt his heart drop into his stomach. The room tilted before it stilled and came to focus on the demon that would change him and his future.

The demon's eyes flickered over Louis, pausing slightly at his bottom half. He sneered.

"Louis, it has been awhile since I last saw you." Louis couldn't help but focus on the high demon's full lips. He blushed when his point tongue licked them.

"Yes, sir." When he answered he felt like kneeling or doing something to show respect. No one ever said what he was suppose to do when in front of the high demon, but he shouldn't be too worried. The high demon was fair though he was painted in such an evil light. At least, that's what Louis thought.

"You've grown into a beautiful demon. Come forward."

He didn't hesitate, not wanting to cause trouble. The ground crunched under his feet and the closer he came to the high demon, the more he felt the heat. All around him the pulse of a deeper flame could be felt. The thumps weren't necessarily heard but felt from deep within. The unique feeling it gave was something Louis had only felt when he was here, close to the high demon. He never really thought about the high demon much, only when it was about escaping to earth. The demon was truthfully terrifying when he looked at him. His whole being screamed out that he was alpha, he was the one with the power here. This feeling could have easily scared away any creature that dared to challenge the demon, but under that tone was a feeling of calm and serenity. That calling was what kept Louis on his path to the throne the demon sat upon. He wanted to be closer to this higher power, even if he might be hurt in consequence.

The demon's gaze lingered and then drifted off to the side. His dark skin glistened from the glowing red crystals forming behind him in the black rocks. "There is a soul on earth that needs collecting. If you can do this then I will offer you a contract."

Louis had to hold back a gasp.

The demon raised his hand. "But there is a request. This soul must be tainted. It will be your duty to do so. If not, then the deal will be void."

Their eyes met.

"I truly hope you succeed. I wish you luck."

Louis knew he needed it.


	6. Moments

Harry’s more than glad to leave the house the next day. Nick hadn’t been back and hadn’t even bothered to call him. That and the fact that the dream from last night kept haunting him, had him running from the house as fast as he could. There wasn’t much out in the world that he had going on. Unlike Nick, he didn’t have many friends. Nick had been his sole friend for the most of his childhood until all that existed was him and Nick. Nothing had seemed wrong about this arrangement when he was young and just happy that he had one friend to share his joy with. As the years went by, there wasn’t much of a change in this mentality. Nick seemed to be the best thing that had happened to him in his life.

There weren’t many things that could get him down. Harry loved a lot of things in life. Sweets, comedies, nature were just a few. But there were things that made him sad, unsure about himself. Models, hurt, discrimination. These things made him think about sad stories, where people didn’t get a happy ending and instead suffered their entire lives.

He never wanted to feel like this, like he could burst out crying at any second. Thinking about Nick and the way he’d stormed out last night was nothing compared to greater problems in the world. He was pitiful to think he had it worse then the unfortunate. So, he swallowed his fear and decided that it might be best to clear his head. This decision lead him outside where he wandered down the quiet streets of town.

At first he had no idea where he planned to go. All he was thinking about was escaping the stuffy air in the apartment and the memory of waking up to that disturbing dream. He pushed the bad thoughts away as much as he could, repeating good memories in his head to drain them out. It worked somewhat, though an echo of the nightmare was still present.

He walked the streets, looking up once in a while at the sky, watching a few white clouds float by. This calmed him just a bit, mesmerized by how fluffy and innocent the clouds could look. He imagined they represented pureness or something about be good. It sounded cheesy at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he wished that this was simply true. If the clouds were pure then the sky was humble and the trees were caring while the buildings were protective. These descriptions fit in Harry’s mind, even if they were purely based on the look and feel of such objects and plants. It was only something to occupy his mind.

This little game he created lasted until he ended up in front of a store he’d never seen before. It wasn’t all that strange to find a new shop when he wasn’t all that familiar with the city he lived in.

He and Nick had lived together for a while now, longer than his mother had thought. She never said anything about it, never voiced whether she had a problem with the relationship they had together. It didn’t hurt all that much when she ignored them or didn’t catch the way how Harry never introduced Nick as his boyfriend. Why would he do that when he’d been Harry’s best friend for almost ten years?

But it hadn’t ever been enough to scare Harry out of moving in with Nick. At the time it had been a brilliant idea. They would split the rent and have more to splurge on house hold items. That was the way things worked between them. They didn’t think about the future, they just did what was good at that moment.

How Harry saw this now, it probably hadn’t been the best choice. He was too attached to Nick, too attached to this simply way of living. Mooching was what it was and it had to stop. Except—Nick was pretty set on keeping it this way. That was a great problem right there. How was he suppose to slide around him without being brought back in by temptation? Could he really refuse the one person that had kept him this compliant for years?

He wasn’t concerned about Nick being over dramatic. Out of the two, he was the sensible one. It was always Harry that let his emotions take over in the less convenient times.

Looking at the unfamiliar shop, he was taken with how old fashion it looked. The outside was decorated to imitate what he thought was the 50s or 60s. He wasn’t really familiar with what was consider retro or not, but in his mind this fit the description spot on. Inside, he could see dark purple booths and a jukebox. The interior was a sharp contrast to the exterior, taking inspiration from modern times. The counters and tables were clean, the metal catching sunlight when Harry moved his head.

It was intriguing, so much that he couldn’t stop from taking a closer look.

He stepped inside. The aroma of baked goods hit him straight on. Pumpkin, cherry, and lemon fanned out in the room, not quite mixing but wafting together just slightly. He tried to focus on one so that he wouldn’t drive him mind crazy. While he did so, he looked out. At first he thought the shop was vacant. The first few tables were empty but as he looked further back he spotted a couple sipping from mugs and eating a shared pie.

They looked happy together, normal, untouched by the reality of the world and real relationships. Harry squashed the unwanted feelings that came to him when he looked at their smiles. He didn’t know them. He had no idea who these people were and yet he couldn’t help but feel like they had just insulted him.

There wasn’t anything he could do but turn away and stand at the bar. He waited with his back to the couple. For a moment he thought they were staring at him, but it was only him being paranoid.

A girl with medium brown hair came from the back room. She did a little jump when she noticed Harry waiting and blushed as she hurried to get behind the bar.

“Sorry about that. What can I get you?”

On the bar counter there was a laminated paper menu. He picked it up and scanned what was offered. “Um, a chocolate cupcake with strawberry icing. Whipped please. And...milk?”

The girl smiled. “Two-sixty with tax. I’ll be right back.”

Before she turned he noticed her name tag. Bethany.

In the second that she turned, Harry was pushed back into his mind. The walls and the bar counter in front of him changed. The lights went out and the ceiling opened up as the moon rose above him. Bethany walked towards him holding a gun in her hand. She raised it up, pointed it at him but stopped her finger from pulling the trigger.

“I don’t want to do this.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped out.

“Don’t make me!”

The gun turned until it was under her chin.

Her finger twitched.

“Excuse me. Sir?”

The vision is gone and the Bethany standing in front of him isn’t holding a gun, only a cupcake. She sets the plate down with a tall glass of milk in front of him. He doesn’t say a word when he hands her the money, too afraid that if he opens his mouth he’ll scream. She can’t know what he’s seen, but he figures she got the message that he wanted to be left alone.

He’s more than upset about scaring her off like this. If he hadn’t been so weird he might have had a better conversation with her instead of acting like some freak.

The cupcake is good. He washes the last of it down with the milk and wipes his mouth off with a napkin. If he was home he would use the back of his hand, but the couple is still here, holding hands and being sickly cute.

There is only so much he can take without throwing up. He waits for Bethany to come back out and slightly wondering why she keeps hiding back there. Hopefully it has nothing to do with a gun.

The front door opens and cold air fans over Harry’s back.

He doesn’t look, doesn’t pay attention to whoever has just come in. Then something strange happens then. It’s almost like he has to look, has to give in to his urge to satisfy his curiosity. This isn’t a feeling a feels a lot of times and it’s scary how fast it takes him over. One second he’s too preoccupied and then the next this person is demanding his attention.

There’s no way that he can explain it. It’s a moment stolen from his world, captured into the hands of the man that walks through the door. He’s on the smaller side, shorter than Harry anyway. His brown hair is swept to the side and his blue eyes glance around the room like he’s looking for someone. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. That’s not exactly why Harry’s here in the first place.

The man catches Harry’s eyes and smiles. Before Harry can do anything, the man’s sliding onto the bar stool beside him.

“Hello, I’m Louis.”


	7. Reality

The blue eyes staring back at him are unfamiliar and don’t strike him as anything he’s seen before. But the man behind those blue eyes is looking at him like they’re old friends and that they have shared many secrets to one another. Louis is his name and he makes Harry feel a lot of things he thought he had saved for someone else. He looks past this and wonders why the man is so close to him. They’ve only just met and yet Louis is acting too touchy for a first encounter.   
  
Louis smiles at him, scooting closer so that their arms brush. His grin is full of temptation, his lips curving up in a sensual way. Harry covers his face to hide his blush when he stares for too long. It’s not his fault this guy appeared out of no where and decided to start being friendly.   
  
He fidgets a bit with the sleeve of his shirt. One look at his empty plate and he remembers that he has no obligations to stay here. Slightly flustered and slightly overjoyed, he stands up and doesn’t say goodbye to the strange man that was speaking to him. It’s rude, but he can’t make an excuse up at the moment. On his mind is making it out of there without being ambushed again, even though it wasn’t like that at all. His heart is beating fast and droplets of sweat build up at his temple.   
  
Leave. Just go.   
  
The order should be easy to follow. He’s the boss over his own mind and body, but then again, he’s under a spell that he can’t break. His strides were slowing down, now painfully slow against the backdrop of the shop. He swallows and can take the milk and chocolate left on his tongue. In the air, death plays a soft tune, calling for him to take a peek over his shoulder.   
  
He doesn’t want to. There’s no explanation how this turned out to be. He can’t explain how this man found him, why he feels so familiar and so foreign at the same time, or why he keeps seeing people dying. He doesn’t want to have dreams of death or face the next day while knowing that he might see something he doesn’t want to see.   
  
Who would ever choose that kind of life?   
  
A hand wraps around his arm and stops him before he makes it to the door. He can feel the pulse under the skin, can imagine the blood pumping through their veins. Louis draws closer and lets out a laugh when Harry flinches.   
  
“I’ll see you around.”   
  
Like a soft tune, the words ease Harry’s heart but makes his stomach upset. It is not a sweet song this man plays, but a harsh one with static in the background and torture as its singer. The mood around them changes and when Louis leaves the shop before him, he wonders what the couple must think of them.   
  
At first he doesn’t care what the couple must think. They have no business knowing about what was going on between them, though it was nothing at all. But when he left the shop after and had looked for Louis—who couldn’t have gotten too far—and turned up with nothing, he rethought about it.   
  
What the hell had happened back there? It made no goddamn sense when he watched it back in his mind, replaying the moment when Louis had walked in like he owned the place. He acted as if he was royalty or that he was above them in some way. Beyond that, he seemed like a regular person. He looked the same as everyone else, except for maybe his bright blue eyes.   
  
He’d never ordered either, only sat that to introduce himself.   
  
Harry rubbed his eyes. Thinking about this too hard was going to give him a headache. Hopefully, whatever had happened back there with the Louis dude was nothing major. God, why was everything going to shit the past few days? Why was his life turning out so weird?   
  
For the next hour he walked around town before heading back to the apartment. While the long walk had cleared his head and taken his mind off of Nick, it had given him more things to wonder about and to wish would go away.   
  
***   
  
He isn’t expecting anyone when he arrives home. When he passes the parking lot, he doesn’t even recognize his mother’s car and doesn’t notice that she’s there until he’s stepping into lobby of the apartment building. Anne isn’t the type of person who likes to wait. She’s impatient and likes to get things done straight away. Always organized, it’s a shame that Harry never took to her ways and learned from her.   
  
If he had he might have had more money than he does now. Anne would say that what was done in the past doesn’t matter if you’re in the present. Only the future will help you. That’s another thing he wished that he’d developed. Things would be a lot better if he didn’t think about the past so much. Most times he couldn’t even face what was going on around him at that moment. He was always too busy thinking about all the things he never said or did to pay attention to the problems he had now.   
  
She’s waiting at the center of the lobby, sitting in one of the chairs. Her legs are crossed and her eyes are looking forward, focused right on him. Nothing frightens her, nothing that he can remember. If she’s developed a new fear she would have told him because she loves to talk on the phone as stereotypical it might seem for a mother. But the things she likes to talk about aren’t really gossip. Scientific discoveries, politics, and the stock market are her favorite topics all ranging from difficulty to understand.   
  
You would think by now he would pick up a few words to just make a sentence to appease her when they speak, but alas, Harry isn’t a communicator by any means. That could possibly be why Anne wasn’t so shocked when he told her that he wouldn’t be studying any of those things.   
  
“I’d thought you’d never get here. Why haven’t you answered your phone?” She’s dressed in casual jeans and sweater. Her hair is tied up in a loose buns and the only makeup she has on is black eyeliner and a think layer of lip gloss. It’s the closest thing to dress up in her world and the only way to get her to wear a dress is to marry her.   
  
When she married Harry’s step-dad it had been the last time.   
  
Harry touched the pocket that held his phone. “Sorry. I didn’t hear it.”   
  
He didn’t mention that he’d turned it off specifically because he didn’t want to be bothered. Nick never called him anymore.   
  
The look on her face says it all. “How very like you.”   
  
She lets out a sigh and stands up. The black purse she carries catches the light even though it isn’t a flashy bag. “We should go inside. It’s about your sister.”   
  
The mention of Gemma makes him raise an eyebrow. His sister was a sore subject now that she was living with her husband. It had been years since he’d heard from her and longer when they had been on good terms.   
  
He doesn’t ask straight away what has happened to Gemma. If their mom is even willing to talk about her then it must be serious. Ever since Harry had confessed to Gemma about his secret she hadn’t spoken to him. Not a word.   
  
They take the elevator and the whole way up to his floor they don’t speak. In his head he can’t help to think about the dream or vision he’d seen the night before. The girl creeping towards him who looked very similar to Gemma. It couldn’t mean anything. There was no way possible that he could have seen a premonition of what was to come. He wasn’t a goddamn psychic.   
  
Though he can deny it all that he likes, it doesn’t change what he saw. It felt like a warning more than anything else, but at the same time it felt like something bad had already happened. If either of these things were true, he was horrified about what news he was about to hear from his mother.   
  
***   
  
“Niall, what are you up to now?”   
  
Liam placed his hand on the blonde’s shoulder and peered at what had the boy’s attention. What he saw wasn’t so shocking as it should have been. In Niall’s hands was a picture of a curly haired boy. The picture vanished just as he was taking a closer look.   
  
Liam blinked. “Is that him?”   
  
Niall gave him a bright smile. He folded his arms behind his head as he leaned back in the car seat.   
  
“Harry Styles. He’s going to be the easiest job yet.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/ijakegirl


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